Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > A Heavy Heart to Hold Me Down
A Heavy Heart to Hold Me Down
1 reviewAfter the split, Brendon turns to alcohol to soothe his broken heart.
0Unrated
Sorry for not updating last week. You can thank the evil teachers who found a loophole in the "no homework rule". Anyway, I'm back with another story (because I can't keep the same idea in my head without getting another one.) But enough about me. On with the story!
I kept telling him to take it easy.
He never listened.
Every night I would have to drag his half-limp body home from some nameless bar. Every night I would have to clean the vomit and vodka off of him before tucking him into bed. Every night I would sit beside him, waiting for him to wake up and start all over. It never got better, but it sure as hell got worse.
********************
“I’m sorry, Spenny.” Brendon slurred loudly.
“For the last time, it’s fine. Just take off your shirt and put it in the hamper.” I instructed with the slightest drop of annoyance that the drunken man obviously didn't pick up.
“Aye aye, captain.”
He struggled with his shirt for a minute or so before fully removing it and dropping it on the floor. His exposed arms suddenly grabbed my attention. Angry red stripes trailed down his forearms. Brendon slowly realized what I was gawking at, blushing like a child who was just scolded.
“What have you done?” I took a step closer to the swaying man.
“It’s nothing.” he mumbled, backing away from me and into the hall.
I grabbed his hand and pulled him back into the bathroom. “Don’t you dare tell me this is nothing. I can fucking see it, Brendon!”
He didn’t answer. His big brown eyes darted everywhere but my face. His lower lip trembled slightly, making him look more like a two-year-old than a twenty-two-year-old. I hated seeing the poor guy like that, but his situation was serious. I let my grip slacken and watched as Brendon stumbled away wordlessly.
Something had to be done.
Just not yet.
Not until he was sober.
********************
Brendon tossed and turned that night. He thrashed around, sending pillows and blankets sprawling. I didn’t know what he was dreaming about, but I knew it was something horrible. The hopeless look on his innocent face nearly brought me to tears as salty streams flowed freely down his own cheeks. He looked so lost and alone with no one to help him. I wished I could’ve been the one to help, but I knew there was only one person who could save Brendon.
If only he would answer the goddamn phone.
I kept telling him to take it easy.
He never listened.
Every night I would have to drag his half-limp body home from some nameless bar. Every night I would have to clean the vomit and vodka off of him before tucking him into bed. Every night I would sit beside him, waiting for him to wake up and start all over. It never got better, but it sure as hell got worse.
********************
“I’m sorry, Spenny.” Brendon slurred loudly.
“For the last time, it’s fine. Just take off your shirt and put it in the hamper.” I instructed with the slightest drop of annoyance that the drunken man obviously didn't pick up.
“Aye aye, captain.”
He struggled with his shirt for a minute or so before fully removing it and dropping it on the floor. His exposed arms suddenly grabbed my attention. Angry red stripes trailed down his forearms. Brendon slowly realized what I was gawking at, blushing like a child who was just scolded.
“What have you done?” I took a step closer to the swaying man.
“It’s nothing.” he mumbled, backing away from me and into the hall.
I grabbed his hand and pulled him back into the bathroom. “Don’t you dare tell me this is nothing. I can fucking see it, Brendon!”
He didn’t answer. His big brown eyes darted everywhere but my face. His lower lip trembled slightly, making him look more like a two-year-old than a twenty-two-year-old. I hated seeing the poor guy like that, but his situation was serious. I let my grip slacken and watched as Brendon stumbled away wordlessly.
Something had to be done.
Just not yet.
Not until he was sober.
********************
Brendon tossed and turned that night. He thrashed around, sending pillows and blankets sprawling. I didn’t know what he was dreaming about, but I knew it was something horrible. The hopeless look on his innocent face nearly brought me to tears as salty streams flowed freely down his own cheeks. He looked so lost and alone with no one to help him. I wished I could’ve been the one to help, but I knew there was only one person who could save Brendon.
If only he would answer the goddamn phone.
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